Screaming Eagles

^FORTY-EIGHT COLEY

Von Boeselager and his men didn’t turn their weapons on the Allies. They kept on task and followed orders. There was something about the way went about it, though; a cold relentlessness that reminded Coley he was seeing the German infantrymen in action for the first time, instead of trying to outflank or shoot them.

They worked closely together, and called out frequent smatterings of German. Coley was no linguist like some of the translators, but he’d studied German in school and could pick out a word or two here and there.

They’d fallen back to the remains of an old church, and stopped for a rest break. Coley and his men stood in one corner, von Boeselager and his men in another. The two forces kept a wary eye on each other.

“We got movement, Lieutenant,” Shaw reported. They’d dispatched a pair of scouts, and the men were now back, looking harried.

“How long ’til they get here?”

“A force of a few hundred are heading in this direction. They ran down a bunch of villagers lugging boxes and crates. Took them all down, sir. Relentless. We tried to stop them, but we just didn’t have the manpower,” Shaw reported evenly. “Figure they’ll be here in a five minutes, unless we can drop a couple of artillery shells on them.”

“Our orders are to assist with the pullout of all forces. Let’s go, men,” Coley said.

They spread out and left the church, but quickly ran into a dozen SS. The bastards were covered in blood and debris. One of them carried a machine gun, and fired on Coley’s men. They fired back and took his head off.

“Double-time, let’s go,” Coley ordered, and led the small team towards the rear of the town.